


my dear serpent

by mrmurdocks



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Drabble Collection, Fluff, M/M, Snake Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:00:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24399151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrmurdocks/pseuds/mrmurdocks
Summary: A collection of drabbles centered around snake Crowley before, during, and after Armageddon.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	my dear serpent

**BEFORE**

To be honest, Crowley had been a little bit annoyed when humans first came into existence. Too many limbs, that was his opinion. And they didn’t even have the decency to walk around on all fours like any other sensible creature. No, when he was issued his human body, he had to hold himself up on two legs, putting in three times as much effort just to stay upright. Sure, the human body had its advantages, but he was still content as a snake, thank you very much. The arms and legs were going to take some getting used to.

* * *

After the Fall, Crowley had stayed away from angels. They were quick to smite, especially in the early days, and they radiated ethereal energy that made his scales itch.

He sensed the difference as soon as he got to Eden.

Crowley hadn’t seen this angel before. He seemed approachable, minus the flaming sword. And his aura was completely different – it was a bright tingly feeling, like looking into the sun, and it felt like everything would be okay.

Bless it all, Crowley thought. No one in Hell could hold a good conversation, but maybe this angel could.

He slithered forward.

* * *

Human curiosity had always fascinated Aziraphale, so when he heard about the expedition, he decided to tag along. It wasn’t often that he visited the jungle, and you never knew when some divine guidance could be useful.

“Careful, Mr. Fell. I think that’s one of the venomous ones.”

“Not to worry, my dear fellow, I know my snakes.” He had read a rather interesting guidebook on them during the voyage. “Hello! It’s been a long-”

“Aziraphale?”

The angel turned around and saw a very concerned and very human Crowley staring back at him. The snake began to hiss.

“Oh, dear.”

* * *

In the Beginning, Aziraphale could pick out Crowley’s presence as a sort of gap in the general atmosphere of love in the world. He had tried to explain it to Crowley once, but he could never find the right words. It didn’t matter, however, because that negative space didn’t last long – all these new humans and their love for things were clouding up his radar, he thought.

It was hardest to recognize Crowley in his snake form, but Aziraphale learned to spot those golden eyes anywhere. They were the one constant across millennia, a familiarity that he knew meant “safety”.

* * *

“Angel!” Crowley stepped into the bookshop. “You’ve got to try -”

He froze. Aziraphale was behind the register, watching as men in dark suits milled about. The angel’s polite smile didn’t fool Crowley – the air was crackling with ethereal energy. They made eye contact, and Crowley grinned, already shifting into a snake. He slithered up the shelves and waited for his opportunity.

One of the men reached for a book and Crowley darted out, fangs bared. The man shouted and fell backwards, right into Aziraphale.

“You should leave. I’ve heard this particular snake does terrible things to men like you.”

* * *

“Crowley!” Aziraphale hadn’t seen him since 1637, but he had recognized that saunter from the other end of the pub. As he started to make his way towards Crowley, the demon turned around, grinned, and – oh.

“My dear boy, that’s far too many teeth.”

Crowley stopped grinning. “What?”

“How many drinks have you had?” Aziraphale had learned that drunk miracles were questionable at best, but drunk shapeshifting? He couldn’t begin to imagine.

“Lossst track after… four? What’sss wrong with my teeth?” Crowley ran his tongue along the top row and his eyes grew wide. “Whoopssss. Must’ve forgotten to change thossse.”

* * *

Aziraphale pulled his coat tighter. There had been an unexpected snowstorm the night before, and with all the recent crop failures, people here could use some miracles. Just as he was about to step into an inn, he noticed something black half-buried in a snowdrift.

“Crowley?” There was no response. It must be him; there weren’t many golden-eyed snakes in this part of Europe. He sighed and gently set the snake in his pocket; Aziraphale had seen what the cold did to him.

Later that evening, Aziraphale heard hissing from where he had hung his coat.

“I hate thisssss century.”

* * *

There was an entire planet filled with places to get a drink, and somehow Aziraphale and Crowley tended to find each other at the same one. After spending a night at this particular inn, Aziraphale wasn’t surprised to run into his demonic counterpart.

“Charming place, isssn’t it?” Crowley asked.

“Quite. I just wish there weren’t so many mice.”

“Mice? Where?”

“They’re everywhere, my dear. They nearly chewed a hole in my left shoe – how could you have missed them?”

Crowley smirked, flicking out a forked tongue from between his lips. “Dunno. I guess mice usually keep their disssstance from me.”

* * *

**DURING**

“You look tired, my dear. And I don’t think it has anything to do with postmodern sculpture.”

“It’sssss fine,” Crowley muttered.

Aziraphale gave him a stern look. “It won’t be if you discorporate of exhaustion by the time Warlock is five.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do, Angel? They wouldn’t exactly approve of a ssssssnake roaming the museum.”

“What if they didn’t see you?”

Crowley raised an eyebrow.

Five minutes later, Aziraphale emerged from the restroom with Crowley nowhere in sight. And if anyone noticed something moving around under Aziraphale’s coat, well. They shouldn’t have been looking that closely.

* * *

“And what’s this? Oh, it’s Brother Snake!”

Fortunately, Warlock didn’t question how a giant black snake had found its way into one of the flowerbeds at the Dowling residence. Aziraphale reached an arm down and the snake slithered up and settled on his shoulders.

Warlock’s eyes were wide. “Can I pet it?”

Aziraphale met the snake’s golden eyes. Crowley had been exhausted after managing Warlock’s eighth birthday party – no wonder he had reverted to snake form during his time off. He didn’t seem to be objecting, so Aziraphale knelt down.

“Here. He likes it when you pet him like this.”

* * *

On Aziraphale’s days off, he liked to sit under one of the giant oak trees on the Dowling property. He’d miracle a book from his shop into his hands, settle in and become so still that birds tended to mistake him for a statue. On this particular occasion, he was so absorbed in _An Ideal Husband_ that he failed to see the snake hurtling towards him. The birds did notice, however, and flew from Aziraphale’s shoulders in a chorus of frightened squawks. The angel looked up.

“My dear boy, that was entirely unnecessary.”

The snake gave him a shit-eating grin.

* * *

Crowley arrived at his flat nearly twenty minutes ago, but he still hadn’t left the car.

_Wrong boy._ They missed their chance. Armageddon was coming.

No more Earth. No more wine or ducks or Aziraphale’s bookshop or -

No more Aziraphale. They’d have to be enemies again.

The terror was eating Crowley alive.

Going all the way up to his flat felt like an impossible task, so he closed his eyes and shifted back into a snake. The driver’s seat of the Bentley was as good a place as any to get some sleep.

Calling Shadwell could wait until tomorrow.

* * *

**AFTER**

“Y’know,” Crowley said, setting down his wine glass. “It might help business – er, lack of business – if you had a ssssnake hanging around you.”

“My dear, you’re already here all the time. Just yesterday someone practically ran screaming when they saw you taking a nap by the cash register.”

“No. Not ‘hanging around’ like that. Like... Like thissss.” Crowley moved over and leaned up against Aziraphale, draping an arm around his shoulders.

“I’m not sure I understand – oh.” Where Crowley’s arm had been, there was now a large black snake. “Hanging around,” Aziraphale muttered. He could get used to this.

* * *

Right around mid-July, as the sun set in London, the light would hit one of the windows in Aziraphale’s flat just perfectly. Every evening, he would grab the book he was currently reading and sit down on the windowsill, settling into the pillows he kept there. Crowley would always join him – usually as a snake curled in his angel’s lap. If it wasn’t too warm out, Aziraphale would even open the window, and the soft sounds of the day winding down would drift in through the curtains. He would begin to read aloud, and Crowley was usually asleep within minutes.

* * *

“And in 1983 there was this _delightful_ café right around – oh, Crowley! I can smell Thai food. See if you can tell where it’s coming from.”

“Angel, I know this is New York, but -”

“Like you said, it’s New York. Your forked tongue isn’t going to alarm anyone who sees. Come on, my dear.”

Crowley rolled his eyes, but the angel was right. They had known each other six thousand years, and Crowley had never said no to a good meal. He wasn’t about to start now.

He stuck out his tongue, tracing the scent…

“Ssssouth. Come on, Angel.”

* * *

Aziraphale tried to be tidy, he really did, but he liked the clutter - it made the bookshop feel like home. These teacups were starting to get out of hand, though.

He went through the shop and began to pick up abandoned cups. He had quite a few by the time he made it to the back room, including one that he thought he lost in 1974.

Finally, he reached for the cup still warm from that morning’s tea. To his surprise, there was a small snake curled inside, fast asleep.

Aziraphale smiled. That one could stay there, of course.

**Author's Note:**

> hello I hope you enjoyed these! they've been sitting on my computer for like 8 months so I figured I might as well publish them now haha.  
> come talk to me on tumblr! I'm [@ganseybabe](https://ganseybabe.tumblr.com/) :)


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